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2013.07.04 - Impromptu Picnic
Independence Day in New York City. For days already there have been the sounds of random firecrackers going off in the streets (or maybe it was gun fire, in the city you can never really be sure), and everything seems to be coming to a culmination for today. Despite the heat advisory for the soaring temperatures, Central Park is a hive of activity. Families out picnicking, joggers, bikers, roller bladers, frisbee players... it's all going on. And, in a shady spot out of the way, there's a blanket spread out for a picnic of one. Fern's brought a blanket and a basket to make the best of a sweltering day off work. Dressed in shorts and a tank top, sandals off to the side in the grass, she lays on her stomach, propped up on her elbows while she reads a book. No fancy electronic gadgets for this one, she still prefers the feel of a book in her fingers and the scent that rises up from the pages as they turn. Her feet waver in the air, kicking aimlessly as her eyes scan the page. Nearby, a frisbee gets tossed over the head of it's intended target, and the thrower yells "Heads up!" as it flies toward Fern. Elijah had decided to take advantage of the park again, the intensive heat making the close quarters of Mutant Town hard to bear, especially with the steaming smell of all the people so densely packed together. Eli spent part of the morning trying to keep a bit of the peace, but found far too many people irritated by him spoiling their fireworks fun than interested in him trying to keep the places fire safe. So, he's taking...well, he never takes a full day off, but he's at least moved to settle in the crook of a tree. The outcry about the frisbee gets his attention and draws his eye to Fern, as she sprawls with her picnic not that far away from him. Strange how such a large city can seem so small sometimes. With a casual jump, he leaps out and snatches the frisbee out of the air before it lands on Fern's oblivious head, flicking it silently back towards its owner, his shadow falling across her book. The easy catch and return of the frisbee gets a "Thanks, Dude!" from the players, and the shadow cast over her page brings Fern's head up. Nope, she hadn't a clue what was going on, lost in the story. She rolls to one side, looking up...up... and smiling as the face at the top of all that height proves to be one she knows. "Elijah! Hey!" A twist has her sitting up, one finger in the book to mark her place. "I was hoping someone would happen along. Can you stay a bit?" She knows those hero types, and that they don't take holidays off, but still, she's hopeful. Elijah smiles, pushing his hood back so he doesn't look so obviously menacing or strange. His long sleeves are bad enough, and he's clearly sweated a bit, his forehead visibly moist as he folds his legs beneath him, raising a hand to say 'hi' and nodding in response to the invitation. He tilts his head, peering at the book to try and read the title and then, seemingly reminded, reaches into a pocket and pulls out what he'd borrowed, laying it down on the cloth with a thumbs up of approval. Fern frowns lightly, seeing the sheen of sweat on Elijah's face, and she twists the other way, reaching one hand to tug the basket closer abandoning the book she was reading. The basket is fairly large, and holds plastic containers of various sizes within. About half the space is taken up by an insulated bag, and this is what she goes for. "For heaven's sake," she grumbles lightly, the words more concerned than cross, "Going around in all that on a day like this. Don't you know that people are keeling over because of the heat?" She pulls a bottle of water from the bag and thrusts it at Elijah, "Drink. But not too fast, you'll get stomach cramps." Elijah takes the water gratefully, taking a long drink, eyes closing as he absorbs the water. Homeless don't usually take off their clothes much, knowing that anything they leave unattended will likely be gone, and often keeping all their possessions in them. Not to mention the other reasons Elijah has to keep his jacket on. Still, it's unbearable today and, as he sets the bottle down, he shrugs sheepishly and starts to pull off his jacket. His t-shirt is clinging to him a bit damply, the image of Bugs Bunny grinning on it, eating a carrot. His bare arms are muscular and pale, kept away from the sun. And then there's his wrists, both of them deeply scarred, thick puckered wounds like uneven, fleshy stars on the inside of each... Blue eyes watch Elijah's movements, and the removal of the jacket brings an approving smile. "There's not much of a breeze today, but even the little ones are good. Much better when you aren't all bundled up," Fern says softly. Her eyes flicker over him, never settling long enough to be interpreted as staring, and she tends to be an observant little thing. When her nose isn't in a book. "Better?" she asks when he's shed that extra layer. Elijah nods quietly, letting off a soft sigh as he enjoys the relief of having his heavy garments off. He takes another sip of the water and sits meditatively, watching for a moment at the boys throwing the frisbee back and forth. He does this as much to give Fern a chance to look as any. He can understand the urge to stare a bit, and would rather not embarrass her by obviously noting her observation, instead giving her the privacy to look as she sees fit without making a show of seeing her do it. Then, his brow furrows and he turns back towards Fern, a question on his face. Drawing out his pad, he writes, "Why are you here by yourself?" He knows most people celebrate the holiday with others. Fern's study of her companion doesn't last long, being just as keen to not make him feel uncomfortable by her scrutiny. She turns back to the basket, bringing a plastic container from the insulated bag, and a second water for herself. The container is set between them, the water ignored as she lightly plucks at the fabric covering her midsection, flapping it to create a momentary breeze before she lets it snap free again. The question is read, and her attention turns to pulling the lid off the container to reveal some cut watermelon chunks within. "The restaurant is closed today," she replies, perhaps not entirely answering the question. "Have some," she offers, nudging the plastic bowl before reaching to pluck out a piece for herself, pinched between thumb and middle finger. Elijah snatches up a watermelon chunk, dropping it into his mouth to be chewed and swallowed. His chunk of choice is a bit over sized, requiring him a moment to work his way through, his eyes bulging for a moment as he may have literally bitten off more than he can chew, but he finally gets his way through it. To the response, he cocks his head, but, since she's respecting his privacy, he doesn't pry into hers, selecting another chunk of watermelon with aplomb. "Thank you," he writes with his off-hand, a bit sketchily, having to suck the juice from the fingers of his dominant hand. She's not a girl accustomed to being evasive, and it weighs on Fern that she's not entirely forthcoming with her new friend. But she doesn't want to be a Debbie Downer. Still, as her eyes follow the flying frisbee after she acknowledges the written thanks with a nod, she says quietly, "I was supposed to go home, but my grandpa was sick so I went two weeks ago." She doesn't look back to Elijah, but her lips twitch and she presses them together a moment before continuing. "We always have a cookout, the whole family. Heck, most of the town. And there's fireworks after dark." Her tone is more melancholy than Elijah's had chance to hear it before, and as if it registers on her own ears as well, Fern takes a deep breath and forces cheer into her tone and a smile onto her lips as she finally looks aside to her companion. "So I thought I'd come out, and no one was free, so I was just hoping someone would be around. And here you are," she finishes. Elijah listens quietly, letting Fern take her time in the telling. One of the benefits of being mute, he'd learned, was that you had to listen. You couldn't just interrupt or try to talk over someone, that particular bit of rudeness had been taken from him forever. He always had to consider what he said, because he had to write it down or sign it, not just blurt it out the second it popped into his head. So he lets her tell him of her personal loss at her own pace. He smiles in response to the last, nodding. He reaches down and writes, "That must have been very hard. I am sorry. I hope I am helping some, although I admit I am not a very good distraction, being quiet all the time." "Most people talk a lot and hardly ever really say anything," Fern replies, her eyes lingering on the written words. "Like me," she adds. When she looks up her smile is no longer the one she's practiced to be able to pull up, but it's noticeably more genuine. "I like your company. And you can feel free to thwap me with your notepad when I go on too long." She reaches into the communal watermelon again, slender fingers trapping a piece that's also too big, and she has to bite it in half. There's a laugh as juice trickles down her arm, heading for her elbow. "Anita was nice enough to pack me lunch to bring. She obviously thinks I have a big mouth." Elijah doesn't have a napkin close at hand, so offers up his shirt, quickly catching the trickle of juice down Fern's arm. He remembers how sticky dried juice can be, after all. At the compliment, he shrugs and tilts his eyes down, unused to such attention, and shakes his head at the suggestion that he might interrupt. He doesn't over-indulge in the watermelon himself, making sure that he leaves enough for Fern's appetite and always deferring. He doesn't eat much, but considers that a fine part of his penance. He's usually not that hungry, regardless. "Is Anita someone from the restaurant? She is very nice. I will not strike you with my notebook, though. I don't always know my own strength." "You'll get your shirt all sticky," Fern protests, caring less about her arm than Elijah's wardrobe. A rare breeze drifts in, rustling the leaves of the tree who's shade they're enjoying. The nearby frisbee players miss their aim again, one of the group trampling near to the blanket that Fern and Elijah are sitting on, and Fern reads the latest words written on Elijah's pad of paper. "Oh, Anita is my boss. She and Julius are the owners of Anita Bella, where I work. They take care of us all like we're family." And his addition about not hitting her with his notebook brings her laugh again. "Well, I wouldn't honestly expect you would anyway. You don't seem the thwapping type, even if I do prattle on." Her fingers dip again into the plastic container between them, the watermelon within dwindling. Elijah sits meditative-style on the other side of Fern's blanket. His hooded jacket is taken off, leaving him in his Bugs Bunny tee and worn jeans, his scarred arms bare as he selects a piece of melon from one of Fern's containers. He makes sure to leave the last piece for Fern, though, what with it being her food and all. He takes a moment to write in the pad, "That must be nice. It is good that your boss is so nice to you. And I do not think that you prattle. Prattle is worthless talk." he writes. Fern grins at the written words, and lightly lets out a "Psht." She shakes her head lightly, "You're too nice." There's a pause as she looks at the character on Elijah's shirt, before she speaks again. "You know, I heard a theory once about people who like Disney and people who like Warner," this coming with a nod to the Bunny. "People who like Disney are more realistic, because Disney problems are. The character comes up against something, and they solve the problem." She pauses, letting this sink in. "Now, people who like Warner... well, they're sort of more... abstract. A problem comes up, and they solve it with an anvil." She grins, looking out of the corner of her eye to see Elijah's reaction. "I'm more a Warner person." Jocelyn was out here because she was going to meet Carol. She also knew Central Park rather well. Something about one of her bases of operations being located in the park. She hadn't seen Carol yet, nor picked up on the woman's energy signature, and so the redhead was just doing a little bit of wandering. Then she happens to spot Fern and Elijah. She hadn't really seen much of Fern lately, and Elijah was someone she'd seen fairly recently. So, the teenager decides to make her way over and say hello. "Hi there Fern. Elijah," Jocelyn greets casually as she approaches, offering the pair a wave. She doesn't, of course, expect a verbal response from Elijah. She overhears the last part of Fern's statement and smiles a little. "I don't know, Fern. Hammers are generally pretty practical tools in my mind," she says with a small grin. Elijah looks up in surprise at Jocelyn's arrival, his engagement with Fern actually making him somewhat oblivious to his surroundings, a pretty rare occurrence for Elijah. He looks back and forth between the two women, surprised that the two know each other, but supposing it's just another one of those "big city, small town" things of people crossing paths. Or perhaps it's meant to be, a guiding hand leading people into one another's lives. He does believe in that sort of thing, after all, so he should probably learn to accept such things. He raises a hand to wave hello to Jocelyn, leaning down to the pad and writing, "I am Warner, too, although the shirt is just what I could get for five dollars at Goodwill. I am not prone to sports teams or local eateries, which were most of the other logos." It's the 4th! Carol likes this day. She thinks she used to love it, but without those growing up emotions, it's just... not as colorful a set of memories she has. But she rode her bike to the park today, attached her helmet to the bike by a good and sturdy lock before activating the SHIELD tech alarm system. Hey, SHIELD credentials have gotta be good for something, right? Anyhow, she finds herself simply walking through the park in a pair of jean shorts and a short tank top that leaves part of the belly exposed. Sure, this is how the young folks dress these days, but she doesn't really feel all that much older than them. The tank top is of course, bright red while the shorts are blue. A pause to grab a hot dog from one of the plethora of vendor carts gives her a snack to carry around and munch on as she enjoys the park today. Of course, it's picnic day, so she scans the many picnickers to see if she actually knows anyone here. She does have quite a variety of friends in the NYC area, and for the moment, she stands out as one of the few folks just munching on a dog and people watching without really interacting like most others are doing. And then, ah, there she is. A hand is raised, and a voice calls out (after chewing and swallowing in a bit of a rush) "Hey Jocelyn!" Yep, that's Carol for ya. About as subtle as a dump truck. Fern looks up, her grin wide and welcoming. "Jocelyn! C'mon, sit, have some...." The words taper off as she sees the watermelon down to the last piece, and she twists immediately, fishing into the basket nearby, pulling out another plastic container and pulling the lid off to peer inside. "Strawberries," she finishes, setting the lid aside and putting the plastic box where it can be easily reached by any of the three. "Or the last piece of watermelon." The shorter redhead's shoulders shrug, and she allows, "Well, for most people, sure. But I tend to use them more on feet and shins than nails. And only 'cuz I can't carry an anvil around." She doesn't question that Elijah and Jocelyn know each other. Don't all superheros know each other? The voice calling to Jocelyn draws Fern's eyes, and she has to think a second to place the woman. Oh yes! Fern waited on her once when she, Carol, was in with that nice Mr. Coulson. Well, no, not all of them. Just enough connections to generally make contact possible. Or at least Jocelyn had found it that way. She gives Elijah a small grin. "Don't look too shocked to see me again, Elijah. I do get around," the woman offers. She waves over to Carol and gestures for her to come over towards them. Jocelyn could be blunt and loud, but she didn't always feel like she needed to be. Especially with Carol around to be her own brand of subtle. "That's Carol Danvers. Friend of mine," Jocelyn explains. As their relationship really had moved from mentor-mentored to a peer relationship these days. Jocelyn then moves to take a seat. "I'll have some strawberries. I'd had to deprive someone of the last bit of watermelon," the woman offers. "How're the both of you doing? Fern, I don't think I've seen you in ages. I didn't get to see you much at the wedding". Jocelyn had been rather tied up during the wedding, honestly. Elijah arches an eyebrow at the idea of using hammers on shins and nails, thinking that sounds awfully painful. And then, the words "hammer" and "nails" have entirely less pleasant connotations for him, memories he very, very quickly squashes down as inappropriate for a bright, summer holiday with new friends. He lets Jocelyn and Fern have their pick of the strawberries, choosing to defer to the ladies for the moment. As Jocelyn points out Carol, he nods, accepting that he is just going to keep meeting new people. He raises a hand in greeting to the newcomer, although he's beginning to wonder how he's going to communicate to everyone at once. He writes on the pad in front of Fern, "I am pleased to meet everyone. It is good to see you again, Jocelyn, especially under less violent circumstances. It is nice to take an actual day of relaxation." he writes. He also adds, "Wedding?" at the end. "Did someone say strawberries?" asks Carol as she saunters closer. When she does get closer, it's evident that she herself is no teen kid. It's not like she looks like an old maid, just... well you know. Anyhow, she offers a smile, "Friends of yours?" she asks towards Jocelyn. And then she notices Elijah 'writing' but not talking. She raises a brow for just a moment and makes a mental note to allow time to respond to things if she needs to ask him a question. "We've met, haven't we?" she asks towards Fern. "But, I don't think I know your handsome companion." She adds, turning her attention back towards Elijah. There's a rueful touch to the smile that gets directed at Jocelyn. "I had to go home unexpectedly," Fern explains, "And I missed the wedding. Was it awesome?" she asks, brows lifting expectantly. There's a glance toward Elijah, then down at the pad, letting his question about the wedding get fielded by Jocelyn. The brightness is back in Fern's smile as her head tilts back so she can regard Carol better. "I work at Anita Bella, I was your waitress when you were in once with Mr. Coulson." Mister, because she still thinks he's an accountant or something. "Fern. And this is Elijah," she offers, motioning to the young man with one strawberry holding hand. "Oh, and please, help yourself," is added, including Carol in on the picnic as well. "Oh, sorry. I could have sworn I saw you there," Jocelyn says. "It was rather interesting, yeah," Jocelyn tells Fern. As only an Asgardian wedding could be! "A couple friends of ours got married," Jocelyn explains to Elijah. "And yeah, it is good to see you under conditions that don't involve violence," Jocelyn tells Elijah. "Enjoying your holiday so far?" she asks everyone as she takes a couple strawberries and begins eating them. "You been keeping busy Carol?" Jocelyn asks. She still saw Carol fairly regularly, but then again, she never knew what messes Carol was getting into while Jocelyn wasn't with her. And with Carol having publicly declared herself a hero, it meant she didn't have to be nearly as obscure with her questions in public. Makes life easier in some ways. Elijah writes, "It is nice to meet you, Carol," on his pad, but otherwise mostly lets them talk amongst themselves. Weddings and social occasions aren't something of which he's particularly been a part of, but he doesn't want to be the "hey, homeless guy here!" downer, especially since his homelessness is, in part, by choice. He does give a thumbs up to the holiday, however, the thick scars on his inner wrists on display as he does so, then selects another strawberry popping it into his mouth, his head tilted towards Carol to see just what she'd been up to. Other people's lives could be fascinating. Rolling her eyes, Carol levers herself down to sit cross-legged on the blanket once she is made welcome. "Oh, that's some memory, recalling one customer you had one time a while back. I'm impressed." she offers to Fern with a smile, "But yes, I recall you now." She eyes Jocelyn at talk of the wedding, but doesn't know who it was for really. But... "You might say I've been keeping busy, sure. What with all my usual day to day dealings, now I got someone out there trying to pretend to be me.. like their only goal is to make me look bad in the process." She reaches for a strawberry and then murmurs with a smirk, "You know, if it gets to the point where there's only one left, I may have to declare war to get that one piece for myself." Fern grins at Carol as the other woman sits. "Oh, I have a really good memory." Plus, she does have some favorite customers. Phil made that list the moment he remembered seeing Fern in some god-awful little play, but still had nice things to say. Since the strawberries are proving popular, Fern turns to look what else Anita packed into the basket for her. Considering that Fern had no plans to meet anyone, it seems Anita thinks the girl something of a bottomless pit, with as much food as she provided. The next container out opens on two stacked rows of little finger-sized pastries sprinkled with cinnamon sugar. Fern's eyes widen, "Awesome!" Offering it out toward Elijah to start the pass around, she explains, looking around to include them all, "They're wrapped apple slices. Like little apple pies." She's totally lost track of the conversation with this distraction. A nod is given to Carol. "I saw that. I wish there was something I could do, but I'm pretty sure my word wouldn't count for much of anything. Not a lot of people know me". It was kind of by design, of course, though Jocelyn has questioned that internally more than a few times. "Don't you have some sort of record with the government that would prove it?" she asks. She could swear Carol was part of SHIELD at some point. Jocelyn does notice the never-ending basket of food and smiles. "Anita packed it, I assume". Jocelyn figured that the amount of food in there wasn't for one person at all. "My thanks to her," the woman says. Elijah narrows his eyes as Carol mentions her impersonator. It amazes him the ingenious and sometimes perverse ways people find to try to harm and hurt one another. He isn't entirely sure who Carol is, other than a beautiful woman, but he can imagine pretending to be her could have some benefits beyond merely ruining her life. All such philosophical considerations are wiped out by the sudden arrival of bite sized apple pies, one quickly disappearing into his mouth. Elijah's eyes close for a moment as he consumes the little pastry, just savoring the feeling and then nodding in agreement with Jocelyn. Yes, Anita needs to be thanked. Thanked intensively. "Oh, I'm sure there are records and such, but it's not that this bi... woman, is trying to make me look like a fake legally. She's trying to crucify me in the court of public opinion." says Carol. As the apple treats come out, Carol does something semi-subtle! It's amazing! She kinda slips the strawberry bowl closer to her, and then moves it to the other side of her so her body is shielding it. She wasn't kidding about going to war over them. Popping one into her mouth, she chews and swallows before leaning back, hands planted on the ground behind her. "Who knew that day back at NASA that when the alien machine blew up, I'd end up having to deal with super powered stalkers?" she adds with a snort. Fern passes the container to offer apple treats to Jocelyn and Carol, before she sets it into the middle of the blanket. She takes one for herself before she sits back, tucking her bare feet off to one side and bracing herself lightly on one hand. "I'll pass the thanks along to her. She's trying to be the world's mother, I swear." There's open fondness for the older woman. "I lucked into the best job ever." Before she gets her first taste of the pastry, Fern looks to Carol again, lightly frowning as she catches up with the conversation. "Wow, that's awful. Why would someone even do that?" "Could be someone with an axe to grind. Could be someone trying to piggyback off Carol's past accomplishments. Or it could be part of something else. Or it could just be someone who really wants the public face time," Jocelyn offers. Though Carol might have some other reason as to why this woman was trying to pretend to be her. Jocelyn takes one of the apple treats and pops it into her mouth. "Yeah. I think I'm about to give up on the idea of finding a suitable summer job. Don't exactly have a whole lot on my resume," Jocelyn says with a small laugh. Plus she ends up out of town on X-Business often enough that a summer job just isn't always in the cards. "So, anybody planning anything big for tonight? Any of the fireworks shows or anything like that?" Jocelyn was expecting to hear something about Jubilee putting on a display, though she hadn't heard for sure if the X-Men's living sparkler would be doing anything. Elijah shakes his head in agreement with Fern, sitting back and bracing his weight on his hands. He, of course, doesn't really have any idea who Carol is, although he suspects she must be someone of great note, perhaps a prominent superhero. The mention of the 'alien machine' sticks out to him as well. As strange as his life has been, he's clearly not alone in the world of weird occurrences and, in fact, he might be on the more mundane end. He doesn't write anything in particular, content to let others talk, keeping his mind on a low setting to check for any prayers, making sure no one nearby is in need, while absentmindedly popping another apple pastry into his mouth. He does shake his head at the suggestion of plans, having no plan greater than laying on top of a building and watching whatever fireworks he can see. "I have no idea really. I've invited her to sit down and have a public chat about it but... it doesn't seem that she wants to handle things that way." offers Carol. She flexes arms and shoulders briefly, before letting them relax... an old trick she used to use when in the cockpit where one really couldn't move around to stretch. Then it hits her, she hasn't been really.. introduced. "I'm sorry." she says as she holds out a hand, first to Elijah, and then to Fern. "I'm Carol. Carol Danvers if you want a full formal intro." she adds with a grin. There's a negative reply from Fern as well after she hurries to swallow some pasty so she can talk. "I'm probably just gonna head home." The prospect of going somewhere alone to see fireworks when she'd usually be spending the time with her family isn't one she's found as appealing as returning to her mini-sauna in Harlem. Quickly, as Carol and Elijah exchange the introduction, Fern dusts her fingers off on her shorts, then shakes the other woman's hand in turn. "It's nice to meet you." Elijah takes Carol's hand as well, shaking it firmly, making sure to keep his power in check as he makes contact with her skin. He doens't want to find himself swimming in Carol's mind, any more than he wants to plunge her uninvited into his own. He holds up a finger and writes in the pad in front of Fern, encouraging his friend to read it aloud for him, rather than spinning it around constantly to accommodate everyone's differing angles, "Elijah Morningstar," he writes. "I, too, was just going to sit and watch the fireworks from wherever I happened to be." "Nice to meet you both. Morningstar... what an unusual name." offers Carol towards Elijah, but then Fern's words sink into her brain and she raises both brows. "Is everything okay?" she asks. "You don't want to miss the show, do you?" she asks, gesturing vaguely towards the sky. Fern does, of course, willingly speak for Elijah, relaying his writing, and then she bites into another apple pastry. She has to hurry through it, wanting to reply to Carol. "Oh sure, everything's fine. I just... didn't know where to go see any. It's my first Independence Day here." She lets the words sort of trail off as her attention seems to drift to the basket once more. An evasive maneuver has her pulling out a large-ish container, the removed cover revealing Anita's home made rolls, sliced in half to make sandwiches. Fern nudges one with her finger lightly to see the contents. "Lettuce, tomato, Italian salami." This is set with the rest of the offerings in the center of their makeshift circle. "Ahh. Well, there are plenty of places to go. It's my first Independence Day here too," Jocelyn comments as she hears everybody's plans for the holiday. "I just haven't picked one yet," she admits easily. Though she raise an eyebrow slightly to Fern's explanation. She figures Fern is being straight about her reasoning, but maybe not? Eh. It was hard for Jocelyn to tell. "Geez. Did she honestly pack the entire kitchen's worth of food in that basket? There isn't some sort of magic spell on that thing to make it keep creating food, is there?" she comments with a grin. Elijah holds up three fingers and gestures towards himself, as close to a universal gesture of "Me, three!" at the suggestion of one's first Independence Day in New York. He'd made his way here in the depths of winter, largely hitch-hiking, and was still adjusting to the feeling of all these souls around him. He knew it would be even more intense at a parade or public gathering, so many people massed together, which, for him, was like concentrated power, raw and poured right into him, the strange byproduct of his abilities making him need people and shy away from crowds at the same time. He gestures upwards and writes simply, "The sky is everywhere, isn't it? Just be somewhere high." "Maybe it's a TARDIS." offers Carol. She shakes her head and shrugs, "Gonna be plenty of fireworks right here. This is Central Park after all." She grins to Elijah after reading his reply, and nods, "Exactly. So why not enjoy the park and just kick back?" she asks as she goes back to her relaxed pose. "I've seen fireworks all over the world. For a variety of reasons, but New York? this'll be what, my fifth I think?" she adds that, pausing to think. Seventeen in Boston, then there was basic and the Air Force... special forces... all over the frickin' place. CIA, NASA... yeah... wow. "I thought it was a little heavy when I was carrying it," Fern tosses back at Jocelyn, giggling. "But if it kept creating food, I think I'd never give it back." As it is, it's easy for Fern to stick to a diet, because after rent there isn't a whole lot left, and food is less important than having subway fare to get around to auditions. She leans to peer into the basket. "Only a couple containers left." So, really, not that much. But without a doubt more than one Fern would ever have eaten alone. "I've only seen the fireworks displays at home, but those were pretty good. My favorites are the ones that go up and explode and then, kind of... sparkle." "Ahh. Yeah, Detroit had some good ones over the lakes when I had time to sit and watch them," Jocelyn offers. "Some stuff similar to what you're talking about. But yeah. We can just take a trip up to some random rooftop and watch the fireworks from there. That's probably the best way to do it". But not actually flying. "I know the city has to handle the fireworks display completely, doesn't it? What with all the high rise buildings?" Most people would just end up hitting buildings otherwise, Jocelyn figures. Which would be bad. Elijah has no idea what they do (or what a TARDIS is, for that matter - they didn't have Dr. Who in his cult). He refrains from eating further, more than satisfied and, frankly, wary of eating himself sick. He's not used to rich food, living largely on whatever gruel the local food kitchen manages to put together on a given day, so Fern's food is a delicious treat, but also something to be regarded with a wary eye. He nods in agreement about grabbing a rooftop, having intended to do just that himself, and writes, "I have only seen small town ones before." "Well, Central Park is open enough that lots of shows happen right here. But if you prefer a rooftop view.." offers Carol with a shrug, "It could work. Nothing compares to the view I had back in..." she pauses, leery of saying a year and thus proving how old she really might be. After all, she spent a good ten to fifteen years -not- aging, so she's older than she appears or even biologically is. "Anyhow, flying an F-15 and getting an aerial view... was awesome." Fern has eaten her fill for a while as well, but happily leaves everything out for anyone who wants to pick at it. "I bet it would be pretty neat being right up there with them," she says with a nod to Carol. "Or even from a rooftop, you're still a lot closer to them than you are on the ground." And there is always the option of pulling the blanket out from under the tree when the sun starts going down, and staying in the park. In her homesickness, Fern wasn't thinking about options. "An F-15 would be rather impressive," Jocelyn agrees. "If you want to do the rooftop view, Fern, I'm pretty sure that can be arranged. Even find a roof that isn't occupied by tourists," Jocelyn tells with woman with a grin as she takes another bite of food as she chats with the group. "I suspect that we're all in for a treat then. New York can put on quite a show when it wants to, I know that," the teen says casually. Elijah nods in agreement with the rest, taking his jacket and laying it across his lap, the homeless young man making sure to keep track of his most prized possessions (which are pretty much his only possessions). He's looking forward to seeing the fireworks from above, although he's concerned about fires and such, preparing himself to have to intervene in case of any accidents. And, of course, on occasion, someone takes a big holiday as a good opportunity to get up to some sort of evil or wicked deed. One part of being a protector of the innocent is that you're always on duty. Evil never sleeps, it seems. But sometimes there are fireworks, at least. "Maybe we'll get lucky and like... Hydra won't pick today to piss me off." offers Carol as she plucks the last strawberry from the container and hands the empty thing back to Fern. "Thank you, seriously, those were fresh and delicious." she says to the young woman. "But if rooftop is the plan, it will definitely give us a bird's eye view if someone -does- try something stupid while all the people are gathered for the displays. I mean there's plenty of megalomaniacs out there who would adore a ready made audience." Fern accepts the return of the container, looking at it for a second as if she'd forgotten all about it. Out of sight, out of mind. But she smiles, "I'll pass that on to Anita, too. She'll be happy we all got to enjoy it." Snapping the lid back onto the empty container and setting it back into the basket, Fern asks, concerned, "Would I be in the way if something happened? I don't want you all to have to worry about me if you have work to do." She may be willing to take a stand, but she has absolutely no real ability aside from a little self defense that's she was learning. "Not particularly," Jocelyn says as she thinks that over. "As long as we picked somewhere that you could escape from, in the event something happened". Jocelyn shrugs. "Besides, you don't panic when things get chaotic," she offers. Jocelyn had seen Fern in some tense situations before. So she wasn't all that worried about it. "And agreed. The food was delicious," she offers easily. Jocelyn is about to say something else when her phone beeps and she sighs. "And a much more mundane duty calls. Maybe I'll catch you all later tonight. Thanks for the food again". And Jocelyn will make her way off to go retrieve some underage student who is off campus without permission. Elijah nods in agreement with Jocelyn, even as she leaves, "We would protect you," he writes, "Do not be concerned." He wants it made absolutely clear that Fern would be safe. He waves to the departing Jocelyn, and considers Carol's readiness for action. He tried to be vigilant, of course, but he wondered if he wasn't slacking off, being here and allowing himself to let his guard down. There were probably people out there in need, even now, just beyond the range of his powers to sense them... "Well..." and Jocelyn departs. Carol just shakes her head, "Girl needs to learn to slow down. If she doesn't relax and let her hair down every once in a while, she won't be able to help anyone else." She shrugs and levers herself to her feet. "But, if you are going to depart and find someplace to watch the show, don't let me get in your way. I really just wanted to hang out in the park with my friend for a bit before having to get back to the grindstone." Fern is quick to call out, "Bye, Jocelyn!" as the other girl takes off, then her eyes drop to Elijah's pad of paper. She smiles at him, saying without any doubt, "I know I'd be safe. But no one should have to watch out for me when someone else needs you." And despite having been in the know about these things for a short time, Fern hasn't met a single hero yet that can turn their need to help off and on. It's a compulsion they've all seemed to share, a common thread that binds them. When they're needed, they go, and she knows that. "Maybe I'll just stay here for a bit," Fern suggests, "And see if you make it back." Category:Log